


Train Station

by barnettdidit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Open Ending, Post-War, Sad Ending, get the tissues out lads, not HEA, this is sad af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:41:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24425965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barnettdidit/pseuds/barnettdidit
Summary: Draco watched Theo pick up the glass, angling it towards his mouth as he waited for his response. His eyes wandered away, fixating on Hermione.“I kissed Granger.”Champagne sprayed into the thankfully empty spot next to Theo as the brown-haired wizard spat out the sip he’d just taken, doubling over with a coughing fit.“You bloody what?”(Draco is hopelessly in love and is rather inept at handling it)
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 11
Kudos: 71





	Train Station

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for fun and practice last night and after getting called a "filthy bitch" for this, I liked it enough to actually upload it. I've been told this is very sad so if you don't like angst, don't read it, if you want to get hurt and u got a kink for that, enjoy

“Well, you look positively livid tonight. Is that a new suit?”

The familiar voice of Theodore Nott, friend and foe in one, rang through the air with an obnoxious layer of glee tainting his every word. Draco threw the brown-haired wizard a mere side glance, crinkling his nose in disdain, but refrained from answering the taunts. Instead, he twirled the stem of the almost empty champagne glass between his fingers, his eyes fixed onto a point on the far end of the ballroom they were in, before taking a last sip and emptying what was left of the alcohol.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Theo rounding the waist high table, stepping into his view with an infuriating grin on his face, entirely indecent for an evening as horrible as this one.

“My dear, you really are in a mood tonight. Tell me, what is it? Ran out of incompetent ministry workers to terrify? When was the last time Narcissa gave you a good night kiss?”

Draco sneered at his friend, his gaze leaving the crowd that had just blocked his view from who he was watching. They were at yet another horrifyingly boring fund-raising gala for the Magical Creatures department, which where usually already reason enough to consider committing a murder, but tonight was even worse than usual.

“I’m not in the mood for it tonight, Nott.”

“I could barely tell. I’m trying to find out what stick is up your arse. I do worry about my friends, you know?”, Theo drawled and turned towards a server, picking off four glasses of champagne with a wink. Draco gracefully accepted the one he offered.

Theo watched as Draco downed it in one go, one brow raised high.

“Well, this just got interesting. What devastatingly smart lady is not returning your advances?”, Theo spoke when Draco picked up the next glass already.

“You’re talking shite. Stop being stupid, your appearance is bad enough as it is”, Draco spat without much fight. The crowd cleared, his eyes finding her again immediately, and his stomach churned uncomfortably. The alcohol in his throat was not stinging enough and he finished the rest of the champagne.

Theo watched the blonde’s eyes and turned around to follow his gaze. Draco could hear a low whistle from his friend, and he used this loss of focus to steal a third champagne glass right out of his hand. Theo turned around, a raised eyebrow as Draco exed it.

“Well, that was just plain rude.”

“Screw you”, Draco said, grimacing as he kept watching her move around, talking to people, laughing, and worst of all, doing all of this while basically plastered to McLaggen’s side.

“Second strike. I might have to spank you soon.”

Draco scrunched his nose in disgust. Theo waggled two fingers into his face.

“However, I cannot blame you. She certainly looks vibrant tonight”, he continued, and Draco scowled at him. Theo raised both hands in defense.

“Merlin, jealousy is really not a good colour on you. You’re usually not this obnoxious about her. Something happen?”, he inquired, and Draco sighed, staring at the empty champagne glasses before him. He shouldn’t tell Theo, he knew that; his friend was horrible at sensitively handling any emotional issues. But he needed to tell someone.

“Remember Friday night?”, he asked, and Theo nodded.

_Draco had just recently gotten a lousy desk job in the Auror’s department, when one day, Potter and he had started building a rather frail, yet friendly, rapport over a lunch of shitty lasagna in the overcrowded cafeteria. A week later, Harry had invited him getting to a night out with some old friends._

_Draco Malfoy was not a social person. He did not need friends. He did not get deep connections. He relied on his riches and looks for fast swings, quick fucks that left his chest a bit less empty than before, as he snuck out of whoever girl’s apartment he had successfully screwed his way into._

_Draco Malfoy did not fall in love, or build friendships. Theo was merely a friend because he had not figured out yet how to get rid of the intrusive, exceptionally bored wizard; all his other acquaintances were purely beneficial for both sides. Draco did not exchange favours and lovey dovey feelings for the presence of another person._

_He had firmly believed that, until he had started joining Potter, his two sidekicks and other peers from school that he could not possibly remember ever exchanging a word with. From then on, the two sidekicks quickly became just Hermione and the Weasel – Draco could not possibly bring himself to call him by his given name, it was just not possible – and all the nameless faces became their own people, people who he shamefully looked forward to spending time with every week._

_A first years’ Draco’s dream had finally been fulfilled. He was friends with Harry Potter. Even more friends than that. People he could comfortably have a drink with without fearing judgement, laugh with, and forget the sorrow that had filled his years alone, imprisoned in his own mind._

_Draco had just managed to settle into this new life when during one of these evenings, his eyes met the honey golden ones of Hermione Grangers across the table as she laughed at one of Ron’s jokes, and he felt a terrifying pang in his heart._

“I do regret leaving early. I just had to take care of Earl. I could feel him longing for me”, Theo lamented.

“You need to stop treating that lizard like a person”, Draco said, but he knew he was falling on deaf ears. Theo had a scary infatuation with this pet lizard of one month; he claimed it to be a spiritual connection between soulmates.

“Don’t talk about him like that, he can feel negative energies. What happened after I left?”

Draco watched Theo pick up the only full glass left, angling it towards his mouth as he waited for his response. His eyes wandered away, fixating on Hermione, talking and laughing, being radiant and delightfully conversational as she moved around in the most atrocious yellow colour he’d ever seen, making it look like the actual sun shining down from the sky above. It should be illegal for anyone to look this good in yellow, he thought.

“I kissed Granger.”

Champagne sprayed into the thankfully empty spot next to Theo as the brown-haired wizard spat out the sip he’d just taken, doubling over with a coughing fit.

“You bloody _what_?”

_When Draco left that evening, earlier than usual, there was a horrible knot in his stomach. After Granger’s eyes had sent his heart into a completely unexpected frenzy, he had sat there frozen, completely forgetting about the Quidditch discussion he’d just held with Finnigan, floored at why and how her smile had sent him reeling._

_Draco Malfoy did not get feelings for anyone. The closest he’d ever gotten was Pansy in Third Year, an innocent schoolboy crush she had happily reciprocated, one that hadn’t lasted long and did not have an impact on their future friendship whatsoever. Whenever someone mentioned her ancient romantic feelings for the Malfoy Heir now, she liked to handle the situation with a rather nasty Bat Bogey Hex. Draco didn’t blame her. He knew he could be a prick to be around._

_Draco didn’t allow himself to develop feelings. He never stayed around long enough for that; it was just not what he was meant for. He knew that._

_Other people fell in love, out of love, got engaged, married and had children, and that was their life, but not Draco’s. He had come to terms with that. He carried around too much to possibly dare put it onto another person in a way a relationship would force him to. He just sat at the train station, watching as people boarded their trains, knowing fully well his was never coming._

_But looking into Granger’s eyes lighting up with joy as her cheeks stretched into a delightful giggle, a blooming ember spread in his chest that he could not place right away, but still hit him like the Hogwarts Express. In his gut, he knew what it was. And when he kept watching her interact with her oldest friends, the feeling refusing to leave, but more to his horror, continuing to grow, he knew he had to remove himself._

_Draco did not return to a night out for two weeks. He sometimes saw Potter in the hallways for a short small talk, over lunch he finished his Quidditch discussion with Finnigan, and he got several smoke breaks together with Weasley, with whom conversations were nothing short of exquisitely offending and comedic at the same time. But the one time he saw Granger walking down a hallway towards him, bustling with a tower of files and books and wild loose papers, as if taken right out of their school days, Draco had turned on the spot and quickly ran off into his upgraded, private office space._

_He had gotten six months of long wanted friendship and what he might have dared call happiness, before his bloody mind had messed it up once again. He had no idea yet, that the next six months were going to be torture; not what he had lived through during his sixth year, or as a hostage in his own home during the war. It was a war inside his mind now; one of uncontrollable, despicably mushy feelings that he fought constantly, never forgetting that he was Draco Malfoy and Draco Malfoy did not fall in love._

_Of course, he couldn’t stay away for long. The third week after the evening it started, he returned with his tail tucked between his legs, desperate for social interaction. And he quickly became addicted to the smile with which Granger had greeted him that evening, and to the many smiles that came after when he made ridiculous jokes piled on top of another, trying to get her attention like a desperate puppy dog. And when she gave it to him time after time again, when the jokes grew into actual conversations and discussions that sent his stupid heart roaring, getting to meet the passionate, stubborn and just outright ridiculously smart and witty wonder that was Hermione Granger, he was in way to deep already. Draco could not possibly stop the train he had boarded._

_Deep down, he knew that he had been waiting at the train station for far too long, and he had not been there just to watch other people board theirs._

_No one ever waited at a train station for nothing._

“You bloody kissed her?!”, Theo gasped dramatically, wiping his mouth as he hurled himself back into a standing position, staring at his friend with wide, gulping eyes.

“Merlin, don’t bloody shout it around! I obviously did, I wouldn’t have said so otherwise!”, Draco hissed, eyes flitting around panicked, fearing that someone had heard.

“How- I mean, why- How- How?”, Theo forced out, unable to form a full sentence. Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as he relived the events that had played out only 48 hours ago. His skin was tingling with the memories playing out vividly behind his eyes; he had not been able to get rid of the sensation one bit until around a bottle of fire whiskey last night.

_Draco could handle his booze. He knew how much he could drink to be comfortably buzzed, or to get positively trashed. And Draco never got trashed, unless there was emotional trouble on its way._

_After six months of fluttering hearts, heated dreams, horrific jokes with beautiful smiles as a reward and nights spent awake staring at the ceiling, Draco had reached his breaking point. The thought of her sent his heart racing and the sight of her made it plummet into his nether regions. He’d been desperately trying to hold up the charming, friendly façade of a friend and not a love stricken idiot, ignoring the tremor in his hands and the panicked pulsing in his head whenever he talked to Hermione, doing his very best not to stare at her when she ranted about Spew, or goblin rights, or the impending extinction of golden snidgets. He had become on of those fools who hung by a woman’s every word, thirsty for anything she would offer him. It was pathetic._

_It kept him alive._

_For a while now, Draco had gotten to the point of no return. He celebrated this by spending his Saturday nights shit-faced in his London apartment, lying on the lush carpet as he stroked the soft threads, wondering if her hair would feel the same, or possibly even better._

_This Friday night, he had not been able to stop himself, and by nine pm, he was positively drunk. Theo had left an hour ago to look after his pet lizard, Potter, Finnigan and McLaggen were drunkenly singing Quidditch anthems, Brown and Granger were talking about work, and the Weasel had left to have a quick smoke outside the pub. Draco drowsily decided that his eyesight had gotten far too blurry for his liking, his tongue too heavy in his mouth, and so he joined the ginger to mooch a cigarette off of him._

_The men smoked in silence. Draco sat on the pavement, not trusting his legs to hold his weight, while Weasley stood next to the entrance, blowing the white smoke into the air above._

_“What got you so drunk this evening?”, Ron inquired after a while, an amused tone in his voice that Draco did not like one bit._

_“It’s what people call alcohol. Look it up”, he slurred, blinking against the bright streetlight above. Who made these things so intense? It was an offense._

_“Aren’t we prissy tonight.”_

_Draco ignored him and took another deep drag, feeling the nicotine enter his system and calm his jittery brain for a few seconds. He lavished in the short relaxation._

_“You know what I heard helps when you got something on your mind?”, Ron continued, unbothered. He stepped next to where Draco was sitting and he flicked the smoldering end of his cigarette into the streets, and Draco watched the red glim dying down._

_“What’s that?”, he asked._

_“Talking about it.”_

_Draco turned his head to look up at the wizard. The redhead had raised a curious eyebrow at him._

_“Bugger off.”_

_Ron laughed and turned away, walking back into the pub._

_“You never fail to deliver.”_

_The wooden door jingled as it closed behind him, and for a moment, Draco could hear the music and loud conversation puff out into the night air like a cloud before it dispersed with the closing click of the door. The street was empty except for him, and Draco flipped the rest of his cigarette onto the street, next to where Ron’s was, and he watched it burn out. For a moment he thought about going back in to demand another one._

_The door rang as it opened again and the lively noises from inside sliced through the air once more, and he waited for the obnoxious redhead to bother him again, when he flinched at the sound of a voice he had not expected._

_“Draco! What are you doing out here?”_

_Hermione stepped closer and didn’t hesitate to sit down beside him. Draco watched her attentively; noticing that her hair was in a bun. He hated when her hair was up. It always looked best open and freed, framing her face with wild, untamed curls._

_She was wearing that cursed midnight blue blouse that contrasted with her glossy chestnut hair in a way that sent his mind roaring. No one should look this good ever, under no circumstances at all._

_“Just wanted a bit of fresh air”, he mumbled, and she turned her head, her honey eyes searching his face curiously._

_“Is everything alright? You don’t usually get this drunk”, she asked, and Draco closed his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something he shouldn’t. The alcohol managed to keep the butterflies in his stomach calm, but nothing helped against the look she had given him just now, and even less against the genuine worry in her voice._

_Draco was growing terrified. She was too close, her smell to present, her eyes too sweet and open, and the alcohol was making it less and less possible to keep his carefully construed façade up._

_“Just haven’t been feeling well lately”, he muttered, staring at his shoes. He flinched when a hand suddenly rested on his shoulder and his head wheeled around to face her, his heart jumping into his throat, pounding and beating._

_“You can always talk to me, Draco. I’m here if you need some advice, or just want someone to listen”, she said softly, and her cursed eyes, they were so worried, so gentle, so appealing, he wanted to drown in honey and lay his heart into her hands._

_“No, you- See, that’s the problem, I- Merlin, dammit, just ignore me, please”, he blabbered, the alcohol dulling his senses and last bit of intellect left, and he bit his tongue in an attempt to stop the river of thoughts spilling past his lips uncontrollably._

_Her hand left his shoulder and Draco missed it desperately already._

_“What’s the problem? Did I do something wrong? Draco, if I did something wrong, please tell me- “_

_“You didn’t do anything, please just- Don’t listen to me, I’m being stupid, just forget what I said, please”, he interrupted her, frenzied at the growing hurt in her expression. She had turned to face him fully now and Draco felt invaded by her very presence; it was like a drug, her closeness, and it drove him to the point of insanity._

_“Then what is it? Tell me”, she insisted, crossing her arms and scowling. Draco wanted to cry; this conversation was reeling out of his control._

_“I just- It’s someone- I like someone, and she doesn’t like me back. That’s it”, he gave in with a whisper, closing his eyes in defeat. There were a few seconds of silence, and she shuffled, and Draco shuddered uncontrollably with the hot and cold shower of shame washing over his entire body._

_“It’s surely not as bad as you think. How would you know she doesn’t like you? Have you told her?”, she asked, her voice meek, and Draco looked at her. She was staring at her hands in her lap._

_“She doesn’t know. But I know it’s pointless. She’s too good for me.”_

_The words were coming out without any forethought, without a filter, and Draco grew more and more terrified of how his intoxicated body could fuck this situation up even more._

_“I’m sure that’s not true. Don’t be so hard on yourself, Draco- “_

_Draco chuckled drily as she spoke and interrupted her._

_“Are you sure about that? You know who I used to be. I was a bully. For Merlin’s sake, I was the first to call you- “_

_His voice broke, unable to say the word that had burned into his brain, keeping him awake at night, tossing in his bed as hot shame burned through his mind._

_“You’re not that person anymore, Draco. If you were, I wouldn’t be here.”_

_Hermione had returned her hand to his shoulder, and even worse so, her second hand to his other one, and turned him to face her, forcing him to look at her as she spoke determinedly._

_“Whoever that boy was who called me a Mudblood all those years ago,” she spoke, and Draco cringed at the word from her mouth, “He’s long gone. He was a victim of circumstances he couldn’t control. You’re so much more than that, Draco.”_

_She slightly shook him as she spoke, emphasizing her words, looking at him in a way that sent his mind reeling and his heart racing, and her alcohol laced breath ghosted across her face. Her eyes were so honest and open, it hurt to look at them._

_“Whoever that girl you like is, if she judged you for who you were rather than for who you are now, she would be an absolute idiot who doesn’t deserve you. Got it?”, she finished with a sly smile and Draco could not hold back the relieved chuckle that escaped past his lips._

_His heart was swelling uncontrollably, a pleasant, warm lightness spreading through his body and he could have sworn, his body might as well have lifted off of the ground when they looked right at each other just then. He knew he was looking at her in that way that made it blatantly obvious, the way that Theo had described as “what a man would look at his soon to be wife at as she walks down the aisle or while she gives him head”, and there wasn’t an ounce of strength to fight it left in his body._

_Draco had clearly underestimated just how little power there was left when he felt himself lean forward, and before he could process what he was doing, he had pressed his lips to hers in a short, sweet kiss._

_Later, Draco wondered why his brain just stopped working, but deep down, he knew that it was a clear impossibility to stay sane when one kissed Hermione Granger. Her sweet, raspberry smell was overwhelming, her lips soft against his, her hands on his shoulders tightening for the fraction of a second; no man could possibly stay sane with a kiss this innocent, this gentle._

_When Draco pulled back after a moment that seemed like an hour, still close enough to count her every eyelash, his voice almost broke when he spoke._

_“I like you.”_

_It was hesitant, not what he would have ever allowed himself to say aloud a year ago, and her brown eyes widened, managing to make his drunk self wonder if this had been a mistake. He waited for her reaction, when suddenly her hands moved to his neck, fingers gliding across his skin up to his face, and he didn’t even know who moved first, they crashed into each other again._

_At that moment, Draco felt like he was breathing properly for the first time in years, his heart soaring out of his body and somewhere far above him. As his arm snaked around her waist, yanking her closer, her hands fisted into his hair, pulling lightly as the combed through it._

_As he caught her bottom lip between his, she exhaled with a small sigh and he used the chance to push his tongue past her lips._

_Hermione Granger tasted like butterbeer and sweet mint, and Draco was addicted to it right away. He felt his last bit of sanity slip away with every small sigh, every noise, every tug at his hair he could lure out of her. Soon enough, both her arms were wrapped around his neck, fingers treading at the back of his head, her chest pressed eagerly against his as she arched into his hold. There was not enough of her he could hold and pull at, not enough places he could touch at once._

_The kiss was sloppy and drunk, yet incomparable to any other kiss Draco had ever had. No other girl had ever felt so right, so exquisitely perfect in his arms, like she was made to be held by him. As if someone was vanishing unneeded litter, all memories of old hook-ups seemed to vanish right there and then as he held Hermione Granger close, claiming her mouth as his as she melted into him._

_However, this were not Draco’s life if Nirvana lasted long, and so his bliss was brutally interrupted by the pub’s door that opened, spilling out several drunk customers, and with a jolt they jumped apart._

_Draco barely noticed the crowd dispersing, loud, slurred voices talking into the previously empty night; he was far too focused on catching his breath, feeling hers ghost across his face as the stared at each other, gasping for air._

_Her red lips were deliciously swollen, her cheeks tinged a light pink, her previous bun was now a complete mess, and before Draco registered it, a shocked, nearly panicked expression in her eyes._

_“Hermione?”, he asked, realizing how her breathing was not calming down, but instead of answering, she pulled away, her arms dropping from his shoulders as his hands left her waist._

_What was happening?_

_“I’m sorry, Draco I- You’re drunk, this isn’t how I- I don’t want you to regret anything, I’m sorry, I need to leave- “_

_“What? Hermione, wait, you’re- I’m not- I am, but- Merlin, please just wait for a second- “_

_His slow mind was utterly incapable of catching up with how quickly everything was deteriorating again, and he watched helplessly as she got to her feet, smoothing down her hair and backing away like a hurt animal._

_His heart plummeted down and he could feel a crack starting to form._

_“I’m sorry, Draco, you’re just drunk. I can’t- I can’t, I’m sorry.”_

_And before Draco could force in another word, she had pulled out her wand and Disapparated. He stared at where she had stood mere seconds ago, slack mouthed._

Theo listened carefully as Draco relayed Friday nights events with a sullen voice. When he finished, Theo let out a low whistle.

“She just got freaked out. You gotta talk to her”, he said soberly, serious for a rare occasion.

“I don’t think so. Even if it was a misunderstanding, it can’t be a good omen that she got so freaked out. I’m just not meant for this kind of stuff”, Draco replied. Theo sighed and hung his head.

Draco looked up across the large hall, and he met honey eyes watching him. She looked so beautiful, upsettingly so, her usually wild curls smoothed into a fancy hairdo that only released a few strands to frame her face.

Their eye contact held up and Draco’s heart started picking up its pace. Then, a large wizard crossed their eyeline.

When he was gone, she had turned back to whoever she was talking to, laughing.

It seemed as though she had forgotten him already.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope u enjoyed, if u did, please consider leaving kudos or a comment!!
> 
> feel free to come bully me at @barnettdidit on twitter


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